I woke up this morning thinking about something I wish I’d done, which led me quickly to feeling regret. Regret is an interesting emotional concept. It can be used to describe how we feel about actions we wish we had taken but did not, and it can also be used to describe how we feel about actions we took that we wish we had not. Flexible, persistent little bugger regret. Also an interesting light to shine on your life.
Does having many regrets of the “did, wish I hadn’t” variety mean you’ve lead an interesting and active life? Does having many, or any for that matter, of the “didn’t, wish I had” variety mean you’ve lead a boring and staid life? Yes, I know, active and staid aren’t opposites, necessarily, so my logic might be a bit flawed here but what I’m trying to poke out is virtue and the issue of doing what is “right” versus what is doing what is pleasurable.
A couple of years ago my honey and I got a chainsaw for Christmas. It may not seem like a good gift but with a quarter of an acre of 40-80 year old trees it was a blessing. My uncle taught me how to start it, how to maintain it (which mostly entails starting it once a week and changing the oil regularly), and how to use it. So, faithfully, as I should, I started it every weekend for a year.
Then, I got busy.
Nearly eight months passed before I tried to start it again. Nothing. Nothing for three weekends in a row after much diligent effort. So, alternate plan, I took the damn thing to Home Depot, played stupid, and asked one of the guys in the lumber yard to start it for me. Guy pulled three times and damn if the thing didn’t start right up. So then I started it. Three pulls and roar! chugachugachuga…. Worked like a charm. Started it again in the parking lot, neatly scaring the crap out of some guy in a monster SUV
My cousin and her husband live on a bit of property, with a lot of trees, way out in the boondocks (nearly two hours drive from here) so the other day while I was chatting with her via IM I explained the chainsaw dilemma and asked if they’d like to have it. After all, if he can’t get it started he’ll be happy to take it apart and figure out why. I told my cousin I had three options with the sodding thing at this point: 1) give it to them to see if her husband could use it/make it work, 2) sell it on eBay, and 3) hit the damn thing with a sledge hammer until it was nothing but itty-bitty pieces. My cousin remarked that option number three sounded like fun; to which I replied “yeah, but not very practical.” Her reply is probably what started the whole dream sequence: “What happened to doing something just because it was fun and made you feel good inside?”
Knowing her, as I do, and knowing how she was raised, it is a fairly innocent question. She was raised, as I was, with a conscience. So her question already factors in the “will this hurt someone (physically or emotionally)?” ethical consideration. Once you’ve thought about that, in the time it takes for a synapse to fire in your brain, how do you answer? When did responsibility become the paramount part of life?
Being “responsible,” of course, leads to the “wish I’d done it but didn’t” type of regret; whereas being “irresponsible” leads to the “did it and wish I hadn’t” type of regret. So is it “better” to have one type and not the other? Or is it better to have some of both?
Or is there a third, radical choice: no regrets at all.
When I figure out how to pull that one off, perhaps I’ll have an answer for my cousin.